Strong Arms Quotes

There is no body cavity that cannot be reached with a number fourteen needle and a good strong arm. ~ Samuel Shem

Then strong, warm arms wrapped around me from behind. "I've got you," Tod whispered in my ear. ~ Rachel Vincent

Here, let me help." Nick stepped behind her, reached around her body, and placed his hands over hers, steadying the rifle against her shoulder. At his touch, unusual tingling sensations coursed through her. "Look down the sights to the target," he murmured in her ear. His finger pressed over hers, guiding her movement. Her whole body warmed at his closeness. Too aware of him, she couldn't concentrate. She just closed her eyes and squeezed the trigger. The noise of the shot reverberated in her ears. The recoil of the gun sent her staggering back into Nick. His arms tightened around her. She lowered the rifle. "You missed," Nick's voice teased in her ear. Elizabeth's heart raced. She relaxed against his chest, loving the feel of his strong arms around her. ~ Debra Holland

She wished she had not shrunk back when he reached out to her. At this moment his strong arms could be holding, warming, comforting her. ~ Melanie Dickerson

Then like a bird, he gingerly landed on a protruding rock inside the monstrous cavern. I looked up at the wet walls teaming with sea life and reeled back feeling like I was going to lose my balance when I felt him reach around and carefully lift me off. He placed me so I could stand on the rock in front of him. His strong arms wrapped tightly around me so I wouldn't fall. We stood in astonishment deafened by the noise of the waves hitting the reef all around us. The warmth of his chest radiated against me. I molded my body up against his, my heart erupting in a flutter that caused my legs to weaken.
"What do you think?" he whispered into my ear. I felt his hot breath against the side of my neck, which caused me to be light-headed as my heart raced even harder.
"Awesome," I whispered, which was all I could get out as I slinked into his chest a little bit more. ~ Brenda Pandos

The heady scent of him filled her nostrils, that particular blend of salt and sea and musk that was his alone. Just the smell of him made the blood rush to her core; the feel of his strong arms, the sweet taste of his mouth made her whole body pulse with need and longing.
Marcus made a groaning noise deep in his throat and started to pull away.
"Don't you dare," she breathed in his ear. "If you stop kissing me, I'll... I'll bite you. ~ Deborah Blake

My body melts into his hard one until his strong arm, coiled around my small waist, is all that hols me upright. I don't know if I'm bad for him, or him for me. All I know is that this is as inevitable as an incoming tsunami, and I'm just bracing for the swim of my life. ~ Katy Evans

Your God loves your people and hates mine; he folds his strong arms lovingly around the white man and leads him as a father leads his infant son, but he has forsaken his red children; he makes your people wax strong every day, and soon they will fill the land; while my people are ebbing away like a fast-receding tide, that will never flow again. The white man's God cannot love his red children or he would protect them. They seem to be orphans who can look nowhere for help. ~ Chief Seattle

(Rico) "Can't wait."
"Neither can I." She prepared herself for another go-on-forever kiss. It didn't come. Between gentle darting kisses, Rico nibbled her lips while his hands explored her body. Olivia moaned. She couldn't help it.
The sound seemed to trigger something in Rico. Now the kissing was hard, wild and insatiable. Strong arms circled her, big hands covered her buttocks and yanked her against him. Without stopping the kisses or separating their bodies, Rico maneuvered them to the passenger side of her Jeep. ~ Rita Henuber

We can," he murmured against her mouth, his breath a hot puff of longing. "We can do anything we want. I've never met anyone who needs to be held and loved as much as you do, Harper. Well, it so happens that you've got a man here with strong arms made to keep you safe. With so much love inside him that it's just busting to get out. It's all for you, minou. No one else I'd rather give it to. ~ Kate Meader

I was the one who was supposed to protect him, but I'd never felt as protected as I did in that moment, encircled by his strong arms ~ Sara B. Larson

What evil?" He laughed. "What gods?" "The gods who made us all." "All?" he mocked. "Tell me, little bird, what kind of god makes a monster like the Imp, or a halfwit like Lady Tanda's daughter? If there are gods, they made sheep so wolves could eat mutton, and they made the weak for the strong to play with." "True knights protect the weak." He snorted. "There are no true knights, no more than there are gods. If you can't protect yourself, die and get out of the way of those who can. Sharp steel and strong arms rule this world, don't ever believe any different. ~ George R R Martin

Strong arms wrap around my waist, and a boot kicks the severed hand off my ankle, leaving maggots on my leg. I shut my eyes and try not to squeal. "Get the maggots off me! ~ Susan Ee

In our relationship, what is it that you like the most?' Sita had asked Rama one day.
'Protecting you like an eyelid protects the eye. If a thorn pierces your foot, I must pluck it out. I must, myself, kill the wild animals that approach you. The thought that I'm protecting you gives me greater pride and pleasure than sovereignty over Ayodhya,' Rama had said.
'I can protect myself. I can match you in archery,' Sita had said, laughing. Rama's face had fallen.
'As long as I am alive, you will never have to protect yourself. Such a situation must never arise. You must look towards me for protection. You must turn to my strong arms for protection. If you take care of yourself, what am I for? Promise me that you will never do that.'
Sita had placed her hand in Rama's.
Abduction. Waiting in Ashoka Vanam - Sita had no alternative. ~ Volga

Roots, he wrote, symbolize more than underground strong-arms. Roots are also origins, the tendrils of a sprouting seed that give rise to life. ~ Rivera Sun

True knights protect the weak."
He snorted. "There are no true knights, no more than there are gods. If you can't protect yourself, die and get out of the way of those who can. Sharp steel and strong arms rule this world, don't ever believe any different."
Sansa backed away from him. "You're awful."
"I'm honest. It's the world that's awful. ~ George R R Martin

It took some time for his storm to pass, some time for him to stop shuddering in her arms. But after they stood there locked together awhile, his strong arms began to loosen their grip and his shaking to subside.
Encouraged by that, she stretched up to brush soothing kisses over his jaw, his cheek, his lips.
He jerked back, and as he searched her face, the dark shadows in his eyes receded a little. "Oh, God, Jane, why did I let you go?" he asked in an aching voice that resonated to her very soul. "I've been lost ever since."
The words melted the last corner of ice in her heart, and when he lowered his head to hers, she rose to him like a shoot stretching for the sun.
Moaning low in his throat, he devoured her mouth, his kiss pure hot passion, so all-consuming that within moments she had to pull free just to breathe. Then he shifted his kisses to her cheek and ear and jaw, branding everything as his.
"I need you," he said against her throat. "God help me for it, but I do. All these years without you have been hell." Kissing her neck, he fisted his hands in her sleeves. "I want to strip this gown from you. I want to lay you down in that straw over there and have my way with you."
The words made her exult. "Then do it," she murmured against his hair. "Now. Tonight. Have your way with me, and I'll have mine with you. ~ Sabrina Jeffries

Moses?" I said softly.
"Yeah?" His eyes lifted from the canvas briefly.
"There's a new law in Georgia."
"Does it directly contradict one of the laws of Moses?"
"Yes. Yes it does," I confessed.
"Hmm. Let's hear it." He set his brush down, wiped his hands on a cloth and approached the bed where I was positioned, draped in a sheet like a Rubenesque Madonna. I learned the term from him, and he seemed to think it was a good thing.
"Thou shall not paint," I commanded sternly. He leaned over me, one knee on the bed, his strong arms bracketing my head, and I turned slightly, looking up at him.
"Ever?" He smiled. I watched his head descend and his lips brushed mine. But his golden-green eyes stayed open, watching me as he kissed me. My toes curled and my eyes fluttered, the sensation of lips tasting lips pulling me under.
"No. Not ever, just sometimes," I sighed.
"Just when I'm in Georgia? ~ Amy Harmon

You remind me of a boy I used to know
Same Smile, same easy, laid-back style
And man, could he kiss
Blew my mind the very first time
His lips touched mine.
You remind me

You remind me of a boy I used to like.
Same eyes, strong arms, same open mind
And man, could he dance
Arms around me, lost in a trance
I'd hear his heart
You remind me

I'm scared of you
How did you find me?
Turn and walk away
'Cause you remind me

You remind me of a boy I used to love
Same laughter and tears, shared through the years
And man, how he felt

Made my bones more than melt
He touched my soul.
You remind me

I'm scared of you
How did you find me?
Turn and walk away
'Cause you remind me ~ Malorie Blackman

Don King is a damn sleezebag. King is nothing but a strong-arm man. He has taken his gangsterism and put it into boxing. ~ Don King

In the shadow of feigned cripples and false wounds come the strong arms of thieves and very healthy drunkards. ~ Miguel De Cervantes Saavedra

You can play. You can play. You can play! Livia leaned against the wall, her aches and pains and shivering chill melting away now that Blake's playing had become something beautiful. She tilted her head back and opened her mouth, as if to drink the music. She couldn't imagine how he created it - it sounded as if three people must be playing. She heard bells, then the notes sounded like voices. So clearly the music sang to her: Blake loves Livia. Blake loves Livia. She stretched her arms out and dug her fingers into the rough, scratchy brick, trying to hug him from the outside of the church. She wiped tears from her cheeks. She wanted to run inside and see him creating. She wanted to see his strong arms and intuitive fingers crafting the notes. Blake's sounds enchanted her. ~ Debra Anastasia

Getting tired already, minnow?" Toraf taunts as he wraps strong arms around Galen's neck in a choke hold.
Galen promptly flips him forward and onto his back. Toraf bounces once with the force. "You must have been drinking salt water," Galen returns, "to have delusions like that."
Toraf kicks Galen's legs out from under him, and the scuffle is taken to the floor. Just when I wonder how long this can really go on, the older Syrena steps into the dining room and confirms his identity with the authority in his voice. "That's enough. Get up."
Toraf scrambles to his feet and steps away from Galen, who reluctantly complies. "Yes, Highness. Sorry, Highness," Toraf says, breathless. There is not a small amount of shame on Toraf's face.
In fact, even Galen looks conscience stricken. "Apologies, King Antonis," he says quickly. "I didn't see you there."
King Antonis. Mom's dad. My grandfather. Holy!
Antonis lifts his chin, satisfied. "I didn't think so."
Mom steps over the dish debris and embraces her dad. "Thank you for interrupting. It was getting a tad boring. It was obvious no one would win."
Mom is such a dude sometimes. Grom winks at Galen, who shrugs. ~ Anna Banks

To preserve liberty, it is essential that the whole body of people always possess arms ... ~ Richard Henry Lee

Otter did this! I didn't do anything wrong. He tricked me! He tricked me and left! Just like I knew he would! I think I hear him call my name, but my ears are pounding too hard to be sure. It sounds like the ocean. Im about to start running when I feel strong arms wrap around me from behind, clasping on my chest. I turn around to swing at him but can only get partway before I get caught in a vise grip.
"Let go of me!" I snarl, wanting to kick and bite and punch and hurt.
"Bear," he says, his voice grumbling in my ear. "Bear."
"Im not like you!" I say, still struggling to get away. "Im not like that!"
"I know, Bear. I know." His breath is hot against my cold skin. "Dont you think I know that? I shouldnt have let it happen. Im sorry. Im so sorry."
I stop fighting him, feeling all the anger fall out of me like someone flipped a switch. "Why are you here?" I moan. "Why did you come back?"
He grabs me by the chin, forcing me to stare into his eyes. "It has nothing to do with what happened between us. As far as I am concerned, that was a mistake. We never should have kissed. ~ T.J. Klune

Sex sells, but doesn't work so well as a strong-arm tactic. Give me your purse or I'll make out with you so hard. ~ Dov Davidoff

In an internal panic, I picked up the phone and hurriedly pushed redial. I had to catch Rhonda the Realtor, had to tell her wait, hold off, don't let it go, I'm not sure, hang on, give me another day…or two…or three. But when the numbers finished dialing, I heard no ringing; instead, in a perfect moment of irony, coincidence, and serendipity, I heard Marlboro Man's voice on the other end.
"Hello?" he asked.
"Oh," I replied. "Hello?"
"Hey, you," he replied.
So much for calling Rhonda the Realtor. Three seconds into the phone call, Marlboro Man's voice had already taken hold. His voice. It weakened my knees, destroyed my focus, ruined my resolve. When I heard his voice, I could think of nothing but wanting to see him again, to be in his presence, to drink him in, to melt like butter in his impossibly strong arms. When I heard his voice, Chicago became nothing but a distant memory.
"What're you up to?" he continued. I could hear cattle in the background.
"Oh, just getting a few things done," I said. "Just tying up a few loose ends."
"You're not moving to Chicago today, are you?" he said with a chuckle. He was only halfway joking.
I laughed, rolling over in my bed and fiddling with the eyelet ruffle on my comforter. "Nope, not today," I answered. "What are you doing?"
"Coming to pick you up in a little bit," he said. I loved it when he took charge. It made my heart skip a beat, made me feel flushed and excited and thrilled. After four ~ Ree Drummond

It's only now that he's been corrupted that I can fully appreciate the real Peeta. Even more than I would've if he'd died. The kindness, the steadiness, the warmth that had an unexpected heat behind it. Outside of Prim, my mother and Gale, how many people in the world love me unconditionally? I think in my case, the answer may be none.
Sometimes, when I'm alone, I take the pearl from where it lives in my pocket and try to remember the boy with the bread, the strong arms that warded off nightmares on the train, the kisses in the arena. To make myself put a name to the thing I've lost. But what's the use? It's gone. He's gone. Whatever existed between us is gone. All that's left is my promise to kill Snow. I tell myself this ten times a day. ~ Suzanne Collins

Strong arms wrap around me from behind, pull me back to his chest.
"How long am I gonna have to chase you?" Grady's voice is gruff, breath hot against my neck.
His hands splay across my stomach.
Lips brush against my jaw.
"Are you done running, Bri?"
I'm a bobble head, my head nodding so quickly I'm lucky it's attached so it doesn't roll away.
"Thank fuck," he growls. ~ Jennifer Van Wyk

Now then, let's come right down in here and put some nice big strong arms on these trees. Tree needs an arm too. It'll hold up the weight of the forest. Little bird has to have a place to set there. There he goes ... ~ Bob Ross

After dinner, as we had so many times during our months and months together, Marlboro Man and I adjourned to his porch. It was dark--we'd eaten late--and despite my silent five-minute battle with the reality of my reproductive system, there was definitely something special about the night. I stood at the railing, breathing in the dewy night air and taking in all the sounds of the countryside that would one day be my home. The pumping of a distant oil well, the symphony of crickets, the occasional moo of a mama cow, the manic yipping of coyotes…the din of country life was as present and reassuring as the cacophony of car horns, traffic sounds, and sirens had been in L.A. I loved everything about it.
He appeared behind me; his strong arms wrapped around my waist. Oh, it was real, all right--he was real. As I touched his forearms and ran the palms of my hands from his elbows down to his wrists, I'd never been more sure of how very real he was. Here, grasping me in his arms, was the Adonis of all the romance-novel fantasies I clearly never realized I'd been having; they'd been playing themselves out in steamy detail under the surface of my consciousness, and I never even knew I'd been missing it. I closed my eyes and rested my head back on his chest, just as his impossibly soft lips and subtle whiskers rested on my neck. Romancewise, it was perfection--the night air was still--almost imperceptible. Physically, viscerally, it was almost more than I could stand. Six babies? Su ~ Ree Drummond

Now she knew the haven she had sought in dreams, the place of warm safety which had always been hidden from her in the mist. It was not Ashley - oh, never Ashley! There was no more warmth in him than in a marsh light, no more security than in quicksand. It was Rhett - Rhett who had strong arms to hold her, a broad chest to pillow her tired head, jeering laughter to pull her affairs into proper perspective. And complete understanding, because he, like her, saw truth as truth, unobstructed by impractical notions of honor, sacrifice, or high belief in human nature. ~ Margaret Mitchell

But he's watching me instead. I walk over to him, feeling self-conscious. Flying in his arms earlier was the business of war, and we didn't have much time to think about anything other than escape. This time it's by choice, and I can't help but think about his strong arms holding me and his warm skin brushing against mine. ~ Susan Ee

But my attention's elsewhere, drawn to that warm wonderful pull, the familiar loving essence that only belongs to one person - only belongs to him
Watching as Damen cuts through the water, board tucked under his arm, body so sculpted, so bronzed, Rembrandt would weep. Water sluicing behind him like a hot knife through butter, cleanly, fluidly, as though parting the sea.
My lips part, desperate to speak, to call out his name and bring him back to me. But just as I'm about to, my eyes meet his and I see what he sees: me - hair tangled and wet - clothes twisted and clinging - frolicking in the ocean on a hot sunny day with Jude's tanned strong arms still wrapped around me.
I release myself from Jude's grip, but it's too late. Damen's already seen me.
Already moved on.
Leaving me hollow, breathless, as I watch him retreat.
No tulips, no telepathic message, just a sad, empty void left behind in his place. ~ Alyson Noel

So Musa was a simple god, a god of few words. His thick beard and strong arms made him seem like a giant who could have wrung the neck of any soldier in any ancient pharaoh's army. Which explains why, on the day when we learned of his death and the circumstances surrounding it, I didn't feel sad or angry at first; instead I felt disappointed and offended, as if someone had insulted me. My brother Musa was capable of parting the sea, and yet he died in insignificance, like a common bit player, on a beach that today has disappeared, close to the waves that should have made him famous forever. ~ Kamel Daoud

He clipped the male again, this time in the shoulder, sending Einar flying backward.
He was vaguely aware of Cyn racing to Leilani. He could hear her calling out his own name, but he tuned everything out, including her.
Con couldn't go to her yet. The threat needed to be eliminated.
A red haze had descended across his vision as he body-slammed Einar, who was attempting to stand. That male wasn't walking out of here.
He knew he wasn't acting rational, that the threat could be put down easier than this, but he couldn't stop the rage that had overtaken him.
Einar pumped a fist against Con's ribcage as they tumbled to the ground. He barely felt it as he slammed a left hook across the male's jaw. Didn't feel anything as he jabbed him in the gut, the ribs, the face. Over and over. He felt a bloodlust overtake him as he pounded at Einar's face. This male had wanted to hurt Leilani, to take her from Con.
Strong arms wrapped around Con, tackling him to the ground and rolling him off his target. "Con!" Cyn held him tight, his eyes wild as he kept him pinned down. "It's done. You're scaring her."
Those words snapped him out of the dark fog of savagery that had overtaken him. Leilani stood a few feet away, her eyes wide as she stared at him. Fuck, he had scared her. "I'm fine," he rasped to his brother.
Cyn paused before loosening his grip. When he did, Con stood, terrified he'd screwed things up for good. He didn't glance at Einar, who he ~ Savannah Stuart

A storm is coming in and I feared you would be frightened." "I love storms." "We'll see," he said. "I daresay you'll need my strong arms around you to make you feel safe. ~ Lynn Kurland

The Luidaeg sighed and put her arms around me, pulling me close. "Come here," she said. "I need to hold someone, and you need to be held. It's a fair trade. Just for a little while, and then we can go on being what we are." I thought about objecting, but dismissed the idea and nestled against her, enjoying the feeling of security given by knowing someone bigger and stronger than I was would stop anything from hurting me. That's all childhood is, after all: strong arms to hold back the dark, a story to keep the shadows dancing, and a candle to mark the long journey into day. A song to keep the flights of angels at bay. How many miles to Babylon? Sorry. I don't care. ~ Seanan McGuire

I wanted to run to Baethan. To throw my arms around his waist and hold him close. To feel the warmth of his body next to mine and the strong arms that never failed me. But I was afraid, nervous, and anxious for my Gran and the secrets he harbored. It held me back. I chose to stare instead, my heart pounding, in the hopes that he would turn to me first. ~ Nikki Landis

I love you, Meghan," he said quietly, his gaze never leaving my face. A warm glow spread through my stomach, and not from the wine. "I never thought I could be happy again. But you ... when I'm with you, everything I've endured, everything that's happened to me, it was all worth it. I will give you a thousand Valentine's Days, if it makes you smile like that."He put down his wine and stepped close, taking my glass and setting it on the table. His strong arms wrapped around my waist, drawing me against him. "Forever, Meghan Chase," he murmured, stroking my cheek. "I'm yours, forever. ~ Julie Kagawa

I hadn't even spoken to him, other than to breathe his name, and I was suddenly wrapped around him in a rainstorm, in the middle of the road. Slowly, I felt his strong arms come up around me, holding me, enfolding me. I was enveloped in warmth. The pleasure of the embrace was so intense I shuddered with it. I felt his hand in my hair, and he made those soft shushing noises. I realized I was crying. We stood in the rain, and he held me up, letting me hold him in return. No comments, no questions, just comfort. ~ Amy Harmon

Jen watched as Sally and Jacque's eyes got wider and wider.
"Damn," Jen muttered under her breath just as strong arms came around her and she felt warm breath against her neck.
"I believe this is our song," Decebel purred in her ear. Jen swore at any moment she was going to be a puddle on the floor and Jacque would have to sop her up with some Bounty paper towels. Why she thought specifically of Bounty paper towels, she had no idea. She was trying really hard to focus on anything but Decebel's warmth against her.
To her complete mortification he began to move ... with the beat. Sally and Jacque's jaws dropped.
Jen mouthed, "Save me," to her two best friends, but evil traitors that they were, they both started dancing and completely ignored her plea. Oh, those two heifers are going down, she promised herself.
After a few moments, Jen decided she could either look goofy standing stiff while Decebel danced or she could throw caution to the wind and bring it. ~ Quinn Loftis

Hey,' he said, touching my waist. 'Hey. It's okay.' I nodded and wiped my face with the back of my hand. 'He sucks.' I nodded again. 'I'll write you an epilogue,' Gus said. That made me cry harder. 'I will,' he said. 'I will. Better than any sh*t that drunk could write. His brain is Swiss cheese. He doesn't even remember writing the book. I can write ten times the story that guy can. There will be blood and guts and sacrifice. An Imperial Affliction meets The Prince of Dawn. You'll love it.' I kept nodding, faking a smile, and then he hugged me, his strong arms pulling me into his muscular chest, and I sogged up his polo shirt a little but then recovered enough to speak. ~ John Green

In this here place, we flesh; flesh that weeps, laughs; flesh that dances on bare feet in grass. Love it. Love it hard. Yonder they do not love your flesh. They despise it. They don't love your eyes; they'd just as soon pick em out. No more do they love the skin on your back. Yonder they flay it. And O my people they do not love your hands. Those they only use, tie, bind, chop off and leave empty. Love your hands! Love them. Raise them up and kiss them. Touch others with them, pat them together, stroke them on your face 'cause they don't love that either. You got to love it, you! And no, they ain't in love with your mouth. Yonder, out there, they will see it broken and break it again. What you say out of it they will not heed. What you scream from it they do not hear. What you put into it to nourish your body they will snatch away and give you leavins instead. No, they don't love your mouth. You got to love it. This is flesh I'm talking about here. Flesh that needs to be loved. Feet that need to rest and to dance; backs that need support; shoulders that need arms, strong arms I'm telling you. And O my people, out yonder, hear me, they do not love your neck unnoosed and straight. So love your neck; put a hand on it, grace it, stroke it and hold it up. and all your inside parts that they'd just as soon slop for hogs, you got to love them. The dark, dark liver--love it, love it and the beat and beating heart, love that too. More than eyes or feet. More than lungs that have yet t ~ Toni Morrison

Ella."
The sound was so quiet, I barely heard it through the blood-rush in my ears. I turned to look down the hallway.
A man was coming toward me, his lean form clad in a pair of baggy scrub pants and a loose T-shirt. His arm was bandaged with silver-gray burn wrap.
I knew the set of those shoulders, the way he moved.
Jack.
My eyes blurred, and I felt my pulse escalate to a painful throbbing. I began to shake from the effects of trying to encompass too much feeling, too fast.
"Is it you?" I choked.
"Yes. Yes. God, Ella . . ."
I was breaking down, every breath shattering. I gripped my elbows with my hands, crying harder as Jack drew closer. I couldn't move. I was terrified that I was hallucinating, conjuring an image of what I wanted most, that if I reached out I would find nothing but empty space. But Jack was there, solid and real, reaching around me with hard, strong arms. The contact with him was electrifying. I flattened against him, unable to get close enough.
He murmured as I sobbed against his chest. "Ella . . . sweetheart, it's all right. Don't cry. Don't . . ."
But the relief of touching him, being close to him, had caused me to unravel. Not too late. The thought spurred a rush of euphoria. Jack was alive, and whole, and I would take nothing for granted ever again. I fumbled beneath the hem of his T-shirt and found the warm skin of his back. My fingertips encountered the edge of another bandage. He kept his ~ Lisa Kleypas

I turned from him to exit the room and found myself hauled back by his strong arms. He wrapped his arms around me and crushed me backwards with his strength. His lips found mine as he captured me in a passionate almost violent kiss that left me reeling. "You are mine," he hissed releasing me. ~ Andrea Smith

Suddenly there were two strong arms around her, holding her tightly, more tightly than Triss's parents had ever dared to hug Triss. Violet smelt of oil, cigarettes, and some kind of perfume. Her coat was rough against Not-Triss's face. Not Triss could feel Pen there too, scrambling to be part of it, resting her head against Not-Triss's back.

"You're all thorny," whispered Pen, shifting position.

"I'll hurt you both," whispered Not-Triss. "My thorns - they'll hurt you."

"What, me?" answered Violet. "Don't be silly. I'm tough as nails. I've got a hide like a dreadnought."

Violet did not feel cold or metallic lke nails or a battleship. She felt warm. Her voice was a bit shaky, but her hug was as firm as the hills or the horizons. ~ Frances Hardinge

Football is not played with strong arms and fast feet, it's played with heart. Grow your heart and your arms and feet will follow ... You play long enough and you might find yourself in a place where your arms and feet fail you ... That's when you find out what's in your heart. ~ Charles Martin

If a girl found the right man, she might not need love stories. She might find them in a pair of strong arms before drifting off to sleep. Pages unread. ~ Amber Scott

I considered him and felt the now familiar crush of emotions weighing on me, begging me to cave in and fall into his strong arms.
I pushed back with every ounce of energy I had left.
Every time I trusted someone, I got hurt. Every time I let go, I was let down. Not again. I would drive them away before the left. ~ Glenn Beck

Do people in the twenty-first century still dance?"
My heart beat thundered in my ears, far louder than the slow music. "Um," I said, barely able to swallow, my throat had gone so dry. "Sometimes."
"How about now?" he asked.
And then his strong arms were encircling my waist, his breath soft against my cheek as he gently whispered my name: "Susannah. Susannah ... ~ Meg Cabot

He's tall with broad shoulders, the kind I'd like to run my hands across and glide down his strong arms. His dark hair is unruly in contrast to his businesslike attire ... ~ Georgia Cates

As she felt his fangs against her neck, she was in another world.
There was screaming. A woman was somewhere in agony. Everything was black, and the tormented scream was overwhelming, echoing through the emptiness. After the screaming subsided, there was panting, loud and steady, and it wasn't as dark anymore. There was a room visible now, in a reddish light. A pale man with black hair hovered over a woman dressed in white. She lay on a bed, looking disheveled and sweaty. Her brown-black hair clung to her wet forehead and shoulders. She was covered in blood. The man sat next to her, and held her close to him. He stroked her hair as her chest heaved desperately.
"I love you, my dearest Katerina," he said, cradling her in his strong arms. "Soon, we'll be together forever." Everything faded to black once more, and the woman stopped breathing. All was silent and still. ~ Dawn Bonney

With all his soul he wanted to sweep her to him and tell her everything was going to be all right. To erase that awful bleakness from her face and with his two strong arms reshape the world for her, to make everything all right. But he had learned long ago the futility of racing from the truth. ~ Leigh Bristol

Ali, I've been tested regularly, but I will go again as soon as possible. Tomorrow. I wanna be clean for you. For us." His grin widens. "I'd like that. For you more than anything else." He weaves his fingers in my hair and his gaze is warm. "I never asked you. How did you really feel being an escort?" I take a deep breath. If I'm honest, I try not to think too much about it. Shut my eyes, ignore any physical discomfort and get on with the job. I had no problem with sex and I sometimes did enjoy it. But the emotional attachment wasn't there; not until I met Ali did I realise how arousing it was to want someone so desperately. It was a job that I had mixed feelings about. "I persuaded myself that it was only sex but it wasn't. I was dying inside, losing my sense of self. It's okay as a job but there are other things I can do. I'll find them." Ali's strong arms hold me tight and his presence grounds me. "All I know is I want you. Anyone else will only remind me that I'm not with you." I kiss him again and again ~ A. Zukowski

He was so tender, so infinitely soothing, she longed to stay in his arms forever. With such strong arms about her, surely nothing could harm her. ~ Margaret Mitchell

My own walls caved. Tears trickled from the corner of my eyes.
Then strong arms enveloped me.
"Don't cry." Ben's hot breath on my cheek. "We'll find her. And the twins. I promise."
"Don't make promises you can't keep," I hiccupped. "People always do that."
"I mean it." Firmly spoken. "I won't let us fail. Not at this."
The sobs broke free. I burrowed into Ben's chest, letting everything go. I cried and cried and cried, unthinking, releasing a week's worth of pent-up emotion in a few hot seconds.
Ben held me, silent, softly rubbing my back.
A thought floated from somewhere far away.
This isn't so bad.
I pushed away, gently breaking Ben's embrace. Looked into his eyes. His face was a whisper from mine.
I thought of Ben's confession during the hurricane. How he'd wanted to be more than just packmates. Emotions swirled in my chest, making me dizzy. Off balance.
"Ben . . . I . . ."
"Tory?"
My father's voice sent us flying apart as if electroshocked.
Kit was descending the steps, an odd look on his face.
"Yes?" Discreetly wiping away tears.
I saw a thousand questions fill Kitt's eyes, but, thankfully, he kept them shelved.
"I hate to do this, kiddo, but Whitney's party starts in an hour. She's trying to be patient, but, frankly, that isn't her strong suit."
"No. Right." I stood, smoothing clothes and hair. "Mustn't keep the Duchess waiting."
Kit frowned. "Say the word, and we cancel right ~ Kathy Reichs

A giant black beast came rushing up to her, the sound of hoofbeats thundering in her ears. She cowered, waiting to be trampled, but instead strong arms reached down and seized her, sweeping her up.
"I have you now, my Séraphine," growled the Duke of Montgomery in her ear. "Did you really think I wouldn't come for you? ~ Elizabeth Hoyt

If you let a bully intimidate you, he's going to do it again. You've got to stand up to these strong-arm tactics. ~ Charles Djou

He felt strong arms reach around him, and gentle hands stroking his back and petting his hair. He knew nothing else, except the vague, soothing rocking motion, the raw pain screaming in his head, until, at last, there was nothing but emptiness inside, the arms and hands and the rocking, and a voice whispering just, "Shh. ~ Leona Windwalker

People want to buy mp3s but can't? Piracy ensues. Then Apple strong-arms the music studios into the iTunes store and music piracy drops somewhat. The same, I believe, is also happening with ebooks. ~ Charles Stross

I felt that the success of the enterprise was in my hands: the moment had an obscure meaning which had to be trimmed and perfected ; certain motions had to be made, certain words spoken : I staggered under the weight of my responsibility. I started and saw nothing, I struggled in the midst of rites which were invented on the spot and tore them to shreds with my strong arms. At those times she hated me. ~ Jean-Paul Sartre

Her father would return from China. He'd come back with all his soldiers. He'd pick her up in his strong arms and say that he'd never meant to leave, that he hadn't meant to sail away and leave her and her mother alone in the canals of the Drowned Cities as the Army of God and the UPF and the Freedom Militia came down like a hammer on every single person who'd ever trafficked with the peacekeepers. A stupid little dream for a stupid little war maggot. Mahlia hated herself for dreaming it. But sometimes she curled in on herself and held the stump of her right hand to her chest and pretended that none of it had happened. That her father was still here, and she still had a hand, and everything was going to get better. ~ Paolo Bacigalupi

He pulled her hand to his chest. She was suddenly flooded by the oh-so-recent memory of lying against his chest, his strong arms around her, the warmth of his breath in her ear as he whispered to her. ~ Melanie Dickerson

Bobby ran up on the deck and skidded to a stop in front of them. "It's time for the Kowalski Fourth of July Football Game of Doom!"
Cat laughed and pushed herself out of her seat. "We'll talk about this some other time, Emma. Go have fun."
"I'm not sure I want to play football. Especially if there's doom involved," she said, but Bobby grabbed her hand and dragged her off the deck.
They were divvied up into teams roughly by size, each with an assortment of men, women and children. Emma was on Sean's team, which was good. She'd just hide behind him, because the only thing she knew about football was that it involved a lot of hitting.
It only took a few plays to see that the Kowalskis played by their own rules and the few they had were fluid. Mostly they served to ensure the smaller kids didn't get plowed over, victims of the adults' competitive streak.
Five minutes into the game, Emma somehow ended up with the ball. She squealed and looked around for somebody - anybody - to hand it off to, but there was nobody. Well, there was Danny, but he was doubled over in laughter.
"Run, Emma," Lisa yelled.
She ran in the direction her friend was frantically waving her hand, but she only went a few feet before two very strong arms wrapped around her waist and then she was falling. Luckily, she landed on a body instead of the ground.
"I love football," Mitch said, grinning up at her.
Emma grimaced and managed to get one of her knees on solid grou ~ Shannon Stacey

Farewell My Friend

It was beautiful as long as it lasted
The journey of my life.
I have no regrets whatsoever
save the pain I'll leave behind.
Those dear hearts who love and care...
And the strings pulling at the heart and soul...
The strong arms that held me up
When my own strength let me down.
At every turning of my life
I came across good friends,
Friends who stood by me,
Even when the time raced me by.
Farewell, farewell my friends
I smile and bid you goodbye.
No, shed no tears for I need them not
All I need is your smile.
If you feel sad do think of me
for that's what I'll like
when you live in the hearts
of those you love, remember then
you never die. ~ Gitanjali Ghei

I won't bite."
"Are you sure?" My voice was rough.
"I won't bite right now," he said with a ghost of a smile.
The soft expression bemused me enough so that the gentle patting lured me to the recliner. Logan wrapped strong arms around me and pulled me into his lap.
My butt fit him like we were interlocking puzzle pieces. ~ Mary Hughes

I close my eyes and hear wind rushing through palm trees again. And then laughter. The scene is foggy at first, and then it comes into sharp focus. I am standing in a kitchen. It's one of those big, well-appointed spaces you see in magazines, but this one is well loved, not just staged. A cake bakes in the oven. Carrot. There are matches and a box of birthday candles at the ready by the stove. Stan Getz's smoky-sweet saxophone filters from a speaker somewhere nearby. I'm stirring a pot of marinara sauce; a bit has splattered onto the marble countertop, but I don't care. I take a sip of wine and sway to the music. A little girl giggles on the sofa. I don't see her face, just her blond ponytail. And then warm, strong arms around my waist as he presses his body against me. I breathe in the scent of rugged spice, fresh cotton, and love. ~ Sarah Jio

He did not appear to be a very tall man; what I could see of legs seemed stumpy, though heavily muscled. His chest was broad and deep. Later I learned that he swam in the sea almost every morning. His thick strong arms were circled with leather wristbands and a bronze armlet above his left elbow that gleamed with polished onyx and lapis lazuli ... Puckered white scars from old wounds stood out against the dark skin of his arms, parting the black hairs like roads through a forest ... Odysseos wore a sleeveless tunic, his legs and feet bare, but he had thrown a lamb's fleece across his wide shoulders. His face was thickly bearded with dark curly hair that showed a trace of grey. His heavy mop of ringlets came down to his shoulders and across his forehead almost down to his black eyebrows. Those eyes were as grey as the sea outside on this rainy afternoon, probing, searching, judging. ~ Ben Bova

That's all childhood is, after all: strong arms to hold back the dark, a story to keep the shadows dancing, and a candle to mark the long journey into day. ~ Seanan McGuire

Militias, when properly formed, are in fact the people themselves and include all men capable of bearing arms. [ ... ] To preserve liberty it is essential that the whole body of the people always possess arms and be taught alike, especially when young, how to use them. ~ Richard Henry Lee

Let not our babbling dreams affright our souls;
Conscience is but a work that cowards use,
Devised at first to keep the strong in awe:
Our strong arms be our conscience, swords our law! ~ William Shakespeare

In the absence of organized religion, faith abounds, in the form of song and art and food and strong arms. ~ Elizabeth Alexander

My eyes shot open in surprise as Ken's strong arms clamped around my waist, as his face-rough, thanks to a dusting of evening stubble-came to rest against my neck, and as my toes dangled at least six inches above the pavement. For possibly the first time in my life, I felt grounded, and my feet weren't even touching the ground. ~ B.B. Easton

Except fang. I glared at him. "Go on, try to stop me, I dare you." It was like the old days when we used to wrestle, each trying to get the better of the other. I was ready to take him down, my hands curled into fist. "I was just going to say be careful," Fang told me. He stepped closer and brushed some hair out of my eyes. "And I've got your back." He motioned with his head toward the torpedo chamber. Oh my God. It hit me like a tsunami then, how perfect he was for me, how no one else would ever, could ever, be so perfect for me, how he was everything I could possibly hope for, as a friend, boyfriend, maybe even more. He was it for me. There would be no more looking. I really, really loved him, with a whole new kind of love I'd never felt before, something that made every other kind of love I'd ever felt feel washed out and wimpy in comparison. I loved him with every cell in my body, every thought in my head, every feather in my wings, every breathe in my lungs. and air sacs. Too bad I was going out to face almost certain death. Right there in front of everyone, I threw my arms around his neck and smashed my mouth against his. He was startled for a second, then his strong arms wrapped around me so tightly I could hardly breathe. "ZOMG," I heard Nudge whisper, but still fang and I kissed slanting our heads this way and that to get closer. I could have stood there and kissed him happily for the next millennium, but Angel, or what was left of her was still out there in the coul ~ James Patterson

Far from being moribund, Mohammedanism is a militant and proselytizing faith. It has already spread throughout Central Africa, raising fearless warriors at every step; and were it not that Christianity is sheltered in the strong arms of science - the science against which it had vainly struggled - the civilization of modern Europe might fall, as fell the civilization of ancient Rome. ~ Winston S. Churchill

Why do strong arms fatigue themselves with frivolous dumbbells? To dig a vineyard is worthier exercise for men. ~ Martial

She came up for air, ready to apologize, when strong arms lifted her from the water and firm lips captured hers. She knew, even without looking, that it was Sam. And she put everything she had into the kiss. If she only had one shot, she'd make it her best. ~ Tori Scott

Knowledge has strong arms. Joy has a warm heart. Wisdom has a clever mind. Love has a gentle soul. ~ Matshona Dhliwayo

How often I failed in my duty to God, because I was not leaning on the strong pillar of prayer. ~ Teresa Of Avila

There is no economic necessity for continuing the arms race after the World War, even from the standpoint of the capitalist class itself, with the exception of at most certain armaments interests. ~ Anonymous

You can achieve anything if you believe in yourself. But the opposite is also true; without strong self-belief you will not go far. ~ Paulo Coelho

Her heart pounded in her throat as his head dipped lower and his lips brushed across hers.
Heat exploded in her belly at the chaste kiss, every nerve ending singing with pleasure. Head swimming with dizziness, Bethany grasped his shoulders to keep from toppling off of the bench. Justus's arms wrapped around her, pulling her against his firm chest, his lips caressing hers with intoxicating fervor. ~ Brooklyn Ann

I thundered hot water into the big tub, setting up McGee's Handy Home Treatment for Melancholy. A deep hot bath, and a strong cold drink, and a book on the tub rack. Who needs the Megrims? Surely not McGee, not that big brown loose-jointed, wirehaired beach rambler, that lazy fishcatching, girlwatching, grey-eyed iconoclastic hustler. Stay happy, McGee, while you use up the stockpiled cash. Borrow a Junior from Meyer for the sake of coziness. Or get dressed and go over to the next doc, over to the big Wheeler where the Alabama Tiger maintains his permanent floating house party and join the festive pack. Do anything, but stop remembering the way Sam Taggart looks with all the wandering burned out of him. Stop remembering the sly shy way Nicki would walk toward you, across a room. Stop remembering the way Lois died. Get in there and have fun, fella. While there's fun to have. While there's some left. Before they deal you out. ~ John D. MacDonald

I held her shoulder blades, caressing the grooves of her ribs, scooping her in my arms and feeling her tense muscles loosen up. She was indeed a dirty martini with a twist. ~ Kavipriya Moorthy

Apollo nodded and Dionysus bowed to the room, sweeping his arms out to the sides with a flourish. And then he was gone.
I shook my head. "Okay. Who else thinks he was high as a kite?"
Hands went up across the room and I grinned. ~ Jennifer L. Armentrout

Knowing of your penchant for trouble, Miss Bowman, I have concluded that it is safer to keep you in my sight, and within arm's reach if possible. ~ Lisa Kleypas

You never cease to amaze me, Anastasia. After a day like today - or yesterday, rather - you're not whining or running off into the hills screaming. I am in awe of you. You're very strong."
"You're a very good reason to stay," I murmur. ~ E.L. James

We are doing it, me and you. We are doing it with heart. And with art. And with soul and blind faith and ancient knowing. Because we have to. Because there are people who need us to. Because WE need us to most of all.
No matter how discouraged you've been. No matter how the destructive old patterns have been returning, knocking loudly at your door. No matter the moments of utter freeze or massive resistance or sheer exhaustion. Go out today and make something. Something brave and defiant and determined and true. And then muster up your last bit of moxie and hold out your arms and offer it to the world.

Say "I made this. For me and for you".

Say " This is what keeps me from the rabbit hole".

Say "This is how I go on".

Say "I see you, too and I know how hard it is and I want you to have this to make it a little bit better"

I promise. It changes things.
For all of us. ~ Jeanette LeBlanc

Fuck!" he snarled.
He tilted her up again, her legs now resting on his shoulders, and positioned himself and began to push.
Into her back entrance.
Kimber drew in a great, shocked gasp, her hazel eyes wide. "Deke?"
"What the hell are you doing?" Luc barked.
Tensing a little more with every inch he pushed inside Kimber's tight passage, the tendons on his neck standing out, the muscles in his arms shaking, assailed by the amazing sensations of being slowly enveloped by her tight, ready flesh, Deke could barely form a word. "Fucking her ass. Saving her life. ~ Shayla Black

But even when I stop crying, even when we fall asleep and I'm nestled in his arms, this will leave another scar. No one will see it. No one will know. But it will be there. And eventually all of the scars will have scars, and that's all I'll be
one big scar of a love gone wrong. ~ Amanda Grace

It struck me that Lee was in many ways our true hero. Lee was the one who did the dirtiest jobs, quietly, without fuss, without going into big emotional scenes. He was so efficient, so reliable, so brave. Whenever we fell short, he made up the gap. I'm not just talking about the red hot moments, when enemy soldiers were shooting at us, when we were within a moment of death. I'm talking about the sourer times too, when we were so tired we could hardly remember to breathe, or we were so bored we'd pick at each other just for something to do, or so distressed we'd wish a soldier would come along and blow us into oblivion with an M16. At all those times Lee stood strong. He was like the Wirrawee grain silo. You could see the grain silo from miles away, tall and reliable. It stood for Wirrawee, and it gave you a safe comforting feeling to know it was there. That was how I'd felt about Lee during the war. ~ John Marsden

Rand Paul just came out with an appeal for a new organization that will counter the efforts by Obama and Hillary Clinton to shred the last remnants of our sovereignty by allowing the United Nations to take away our guns.6 And then, of course, they will come and conquer us. The basis for this is that the UN is now debating a small arms treaty.7 Small arms doesn't mean pistols. It means anything less than a tank. These are just slaughtering people all over the world. Hundreds of thousands of people every year are killed with small arms, and a high percentage come from the United States.8 So there is an effort to have some sort of small arms treaty to regulate their flow. In the minds of the Rand Paul libertarians, this is just another effort by this ominous, fiendish outfit, the United Nations, to take away our freedom. Rand Paul is the Republican senator from Kentucky and son of Ron Paul. ~ Noam Chomsky

I can only tell you there's a lot of bad things going on. They're chopping off heads in Syria, and they're chopping off heads all over the Middle East.ISIS is doing a number, and plenty of other beyond ISIS is doing it now. And all I know is that, when they start chopping off heads, we have to be very firm, we have to be very strong, we have to be very vigilant. And I heard a statement, and I disagree with his statement. ~ Donald Trump

One of the challenges in networking is everybody thinks it's making cold calls to strangers. Actually, it's the people who already have strong trust relationships with you, who know you're dedicated, smart, a team player, who can help you. ~ Reid Hoffman

To let go is easy but hard to bury the memory itself. We trust, we love, we conquer to be happy. Love doesn't exist in one way but the other. We get hurt, we suffer. Believe that it happens for a reason and a purpose. Accept and let go of pain but keep the memory it reminds how strong we've gone so far. ~ Glazl Bugaoan

Banks have a strong self-preservation instinct and are quick to adapt to new regulations. ~ Herve Falciani

I have a strong constitution which has served me quite well, though if I hadn't had such a strong one I might have led a more healthy life perhaps. ~ Christopher Hitchens

My arms would be wrapped around him like angels' wings. ~ Jess C. Scott

Dear Neil Armstrong,

I write this to you as she sleeps down the hall. I need answers I think only you might have. When you were a boy, and space was simple science fiction, when flying was merely a daydream between periods of History and Physics, when gifts of moon dust to the one you loved could only be wrapped in your imagination.. Before the world knew your name; before it was a destination in the sky.. What was the moon like from your back yard?

Your arm, strong warm and wrapped under her hair both of you gazing up from your back porch summers before your distant journey. But upon landing on the moon, as the earth rose over the sea of tranquility, did you look for her? What was it like to see our planet, and know that everything, all you could be, all you could ever love and long for.. was just floating before you. Did you write her name in the dirt when the cameras weren't looking? Surrounding both your initials with a heart for alien life to study millions of years from now? What was it like to love something so distant? What words did you use to bring the moon back to her? And what did you promise in the moons ear, about that girl back home? Can you, teach me, how to fall from the sky?

I ask you this, not because I doubt your feat, I just want to know what it's like to go somewhere no man had ever been, just to find that she wasn't there. To realize your moon walk could never compare to the steps that led to her. I now know that the fli ~ Mike McGee